


One for Sorrow (Eight for a Wish)

by CC_Writes_Stuff



Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BACK ON MY BULLSHIT, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Edelgard and Hubert also get like a one-paragraph mentioned, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Gen, Human Experimentation, Inspired by Six of Crows, Kidnapping, Kinda, Mentioned Hilda Valentine Goneril, Mentioned Jeralt Reus Eisner, Mentioned Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Mentioned Lysithea von Ordelia, Mentioned Marianne von Edmund, Mentioned Rhea (Fire Emblem), My Unit | Byleth Being My Unit | Byleth, Stressed Claude von Riegan, The six of crows claudeleth au no one asked for, Unethical Experimentation, but i recommend that you do purely for the fact it is an amazing book, it's subtle but its there, you do not need to have read six of crows to understand this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/CC_Writes_Stuff
Summary: Claude's been kidnapped (again), he hates blindfolds and is really confused as to why the leader of the biggest gang group in Garreg Mach wants the help of a petty thief like him.-Written for Whumptober Day 24: You're Not Making Any Sense
Relationships: Golden Deer Students & Claude von Riegan, Golden Deer Students & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Make It Hurt: Whumptober 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915390
Kudos: 23
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	One for Sorrow (Eight for a Wish)

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Reading Six of Crows  
> My Brain: You can make an AU Outta this!  
> Me: o shit u right
> 
> Or
> 
> Claudeleth Six of Crows AU thing

Claude has always hated blindfolds.

He’s never liked the feeling of being deprived of one of his senses - his keenest sense, for that matter. The sense that helps him tell enemies from allies, helps him look for traps and figures hiding amongst the shadows, shoot a target from a good couple hundred feet away. His eyesight was a key part of him, and he hated to lose it.

That feeling only grew after he was kidnapped. Thrown in the back of a cargo ship headed to a country he knew nothing about with blackness on his vision at all times, except for when he ate. Even then, the room he was in was dark, barely enough for Claude to see wood planks surrounding him and the plate of food in front of him. It was like that for a good few months, until he was hauled off the ship, into a wagon, and carted off to somewhere unknown. Shambala, Claude learned later, after his escape from that hellhole. That was the name of the building where he ‘lived’ as a guinea pig, on the outskirts of the island country of Fodlan’s capital, Garreg Mach. Experimented on with four others due to the magic of his Crest.

He remembers his Maman pulling him aside after dinner one night, when he was just a young boy, a stern, fearful look in her eyes as she spoke to him. That if he were to ever develop the power of something known as a Crest, a powerful magic ability, that he should keep it secret, telling no one but his parents. Not his brothers or sisters, not his friends, not even the family dog. To keep it secret.

 _“To keep you safe,”_ she had said, braiding a strand of his hair. “If you have one and people find out, they’ll come for you. They’ll want to hurt you, Khalid, and use your magic. Just because I do not have a Crest doesn’t mean that you won’t, either. So, if you ever do get a Crest, tell me or your father immediately.”

He had gotten one, to the dismay of his parents, but kept it secret, like they asked, from everyone he knew, even Nader. Even years later, he still didn’t know how he’d been found. But he had, and had been kidnapped, carted across the waters and taken from Almyra to Fodlan, to that hellhole of Shambala. Blindfolded the entire time, only coming off once he’d been tossed into a cell with four other Crested people like him. All of them with too many scars and wounds for kids their age.

A small girl with ebony black hair and fearful but determined pink eyes, cowering in the arms of a tall man with short, dirty purple hair and a long face and sour disposition. A blue-haired girl with tears in her eyes who prayed every time one of the others was taken away, joined at the hip to a pink-haired girl wishing for her brother, for comfort, to get out of there.

But there was no comfort to be found there, no way to escape - just agony at the hands of the people who experimented on them, pushing their magic to the limits - and wishes for freedom or death. It was that way for a long time, hours blending into days, weeks, months, until a woman with snow-white hair and a perpetual five-o’clock shadow with black hair burst through the doors and rescued them, before disappearing.

Edelgard, her name was. A girl who used to be in the same predicament as them. That was all Claude got from her before she left them, disappearing into thin air and leaving the five of them scrambling for purchase on a wet cliffside, searching for a way to make a living in a land no of them had ever been in. All of them were from different places in Leicester, and Claude lived in Almyra to the south. They needed a way to survive in this foreign land full of strangers and danger.

So, he put his acrobatics and shooting skills to use, taking the plunge into a life of crime, throwing off the name Khalid and adopting a new one - Claude, stolen off the sign of a merchant shop he saw somewhere downtown.

Between himself and the other four Crested he was kept with - Lysithea, the youngest and strongest one there, with a dangerous potency for magic; Lorenz, his age, a stuffy but genius man who dabbled in magic and, later on, contacts and a list of who’s who in Garreg Mach; Marianne, a Crest healer who could fix any injury and seems to be able to get information from any animal; Hilda, a tiny powerhouse of a girl who’s charm and beauty was perfect for seducing and distracting their marks, if she bothered to do any work in the first place - they formed a small gang, barely even that. Mostly, they were just a group of people stealing shit together and living in a shitty half-house, finding ways to pull the money for the rent together.

They were a small group, the Golden Deer (as Lorenz so aptly named them, based on the legends of the golden deer in Leichester), but were causing enough trouble in Garreg March to get some people willing to pay them for different jobs. It didn’t make him feel good, but Garreg Mach, despite the holiness towards the Goddess the city had, was a place full of sin and violence.

The five of them had to, in order to get the money they needed for each of them to go back home, because no one else was willing to take Crested workers. And he was damn good at causing trouble, between his schemes, his skills, and poison knowledge, managing to keep the Deer out of trouble for five years.

Apparently, based on his current predicament, too much trouble.

Even with the blindfold over his eyes, Claude could tell several things. One - the room he was in smelled like booze. Two - he was chained to a chair, a wooden one, palms facing each other, and making it that much harder to get his lockpicks. _(He forced down the panic rising in his chest at the feeling of cold steel around his wrists, at being trapped)._ Three - he was getting sloppy, letting himself get caught like this.

Four - there were people in the room with him.

Really, that last one was more of a gut feeling, honed from years of noticing his surroundings. But he was confident he wasn’t alone in the room. There was at least one, maybe two, people in here with him. Waiting for him to wake up, he assumed.

Well, in that case, no use trying to wait for them to leave and escape then.

Groaning loudly, Claude rolled his head and shoulders, trying to get a feel as to how tight the binds holding his wrists together were. Not loose enough for him to escape out of, but not too tight, either.

“You know, it’s pretty rude to kidnap someone out of the blue,” He said, catching the attention of whoever it was that had kidnapped him.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a feminine voice said. “Took you long enough. I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“I’ll go get Eisner,” a second, tenor-voiced man said, and then there were muffled footsteps. A door creaking open and closed, the footsteps fading. The distant sound of chatter somewhere else in the building - down a floor, maybe?

Eisner. Claude wondered if that was the big boss. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place why.

“So, I assume I owe you the pleasure of kidnapping me?” Claude asked the mysterious voice, swiveling his head around, trying to place where the voice was coming from. He wished the blindfold would be taken off - he wants to be able to see shit.

“You could say that, but I just did the dirty work, von Reigan.” Ah, so they knew his name. That… wasn’t very reassuring. Still, Claude tried to keep his worry off his face, plastering on his signature ‘scheming face’ grin.

“Well, if you wanted to talk to me, you could've just visited. Seems like you’re going through a lot of trouble for a little ol’ nobody like me.”

“I don’t think that’s what I’d call you,” the woman said. _Tmp tmp tmp, tmp tmp tmp._ She must be tapping her foot on the ground. “Not with skills and a track record like that of you and your herd of Deer, Mister Master Tactician.” Claude groaned - why had he let Hilda talk him into that name?

Two more pairs of footsteps, and the door creaking open - in front of him, he realized now. Claude moved his head to meet the gaze he couldn’t see.

“So, who do I owe the pleasure of kidnapping me?” Claude asked the unknown figure(s) in front of him. “And could I ask for the blindfold to be taken off? I don’t exactly like being stripped of my sight.”

A sharp voice cut through the air. “Raphael - remove the blinds.” It was feminine, and monotone, and cold.

“Sure thing!” A deep, booming voice said - cheery, though, Claude noted. A moment later, the blindfold came off, and Claude let out a silent sigh of relief, blinking, before immediately taking note of his surroundings.

He was in a sparsely-furnished room, only a single lamp above the door lit, and grey-filtered light from the cloudy sky outside brought light into the room. It appeared to be made from some dark wood, with a table to his right and a desk to his left. A rug sat under his feet. Three people stood in front of them.

On his left was a young man, about his age, with creamish-colored hair and large, round, glasses, a notebook in his hands and a feather tucked into a pocket at his cape, a sword resting in a scabbard on one side of his hip, a gun holster on the other. A threat, sure, but not too dangerous - he didn’t look the type, fidgeting and looking around. On his right was a girl with fire-orange hair in a side ponytail, a dagger in one hand and a glass of some alcohol in the other, and pinning him with a sharp gaze. She looked much more experienced, much more like a gang member.

Then, in the middle of them was a woman with mint green hair, dark blue near the roots, a blank expression, with a dagger in a sheath at her waist. She was leaning against the wall, a cane with an odd symbol, like a flame, as the handle leaned against the wall next to her, arms crossed. Dangerous as well, he assumed.

He wondered if she was that Eisner the other girl talked about. She looked familiar, but Claude can’t place where he knows her from, and that frustrates him.

In that case - time to do what he did best. Gather information.

“Well, it’s not every day I’m tied up by a beautiful lady such as yourself,” Claude says with practiced charm, winking at the woman now that he has the use of his eyesight back. The woman on the right rolls her eyes. “What can I do for someone like you?”

The woman - Eisner? - tilts her head. “You’re Claude von Reigan, leader of the Golden Deer Gang, right?”

If Claude could, he’d spread his hands out in a show of theatrics. Alas, he couldn’t, his hands tied firmly together behind his back. So he nodded, winking again. “The one and only. You are?”

“Byleth Eisner, at your service,” she said, gesturing to herself. Claude noticed there was a smatter of red on her hands. “Leader of the Blade Breaker Gang.”

Claude stilled, smile slipping off his face. Dread crept down his spine as he recalled the name, and the stories to go with.

The Blade Breaker Gang - Everyone in Fodlan had heard of them. A ruthless gang that will take on any job for the right price, making Claude’s own ‘gang’ look like a play troupe. Formerly led by and named after Jeralt Eisner, the Blade Breaker. Jeralt had died five years ago, just a few months after the Deer’s escape from Shambala, killed by an unknown assailant. His death was still a mystery to everyone in Garreg Mach, Claude included. After his death, his daughter, known only as the Ashen Demon _(despite Claude’s best efforts to figure out a full name, but it was a puzzle he couldn't solve),_ took the reins, and turned the gang into an even more effective and dangerous force in Garreg Mach, holding a good fifth of the gang territory in the capital, including 3rd Harbor, now known as Hell's Water due to the fact the territory overlapped with the harbor.

The only gang that rivaled them was the Serios Gang, crudely named after Saint Serios, led by the famed ‘Lady’ Rhea. Despite the grand title, she was terror in the field, however, and led the Knights, strong and deadly gang members who worked directly under her. But, despite their affiliations and strength, they were neutral in almost all matters, acting as a peacekeeper of sorts between the other, larger gangs - notably, the Blade Breakers, the Blue Lions, the Black Eagles, and the Ashen Wolves.

 _So,_ Claude mused, trying not to shudder as he recalled all of the stories about the mysterious Ashen Demon. _This is the famous daughter, eh? The one who had once taken down a group of pirates that threatened the wellbeing of the citizens who lived in the docs at Hell’s Water, the place where the Blade Breaker territory overlapped with the harbor._

According to the rumors, there was no pirate left breathing in the end.

This was dangerous, getting caught by the likes of an Eisner, of the leader of the famous gang. He hoped that, once the other Deer came to rescue him, it wouldn’t put them on whatever mysterious hit list the gang seemed to have.

Claude steeled his nerves, trying to not let any of his anxiousness show, and leaned back in the chair as far as he could. Crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back as far as he could, feigning relaxation despite the circumstances.

“The famous Ashen Demon,” he mused, looking her up and down. “Nice to put a face to the name, and a name to the name. What can a guy like me do for ya?”

“I have a job offer.”

Claude blanched. _What?_

“You heard me. I have a job offer for you.”

Oh, shit, he said that out loud. The other girl snorted.

Shaking his head, Claude frowned, trying to regain his composure. “A job offer,” he deadpanned, trying to wrap his head around it. Someone like the Ashen Demon had a job offer for him? The leader of the smallest ‘gang’ in Garreg Mach? This had to be some kind of dream.

He pinched the skin on the inside of his palm. Nothing changed. Not a dream, then. Still, Claude kept his eyes on her as he reached up into his sleeve for the lockpicks he kept there, fingers straining against the handcuffs to reach them.

Byleth nodded. “Yes.”

Claude raised a brow, quite unsure of how he was - how he should - feel about this. On the one hand, he feels like he should be scared, getting caught by the Ashen Demon, the most dangerous gang leader of the most ruthless gang there was. But on the other, his curiosity and surprise about her offer far outweighed the fear he should be feeling.

“What, pray tell, kind of job offer requires the famous Ashen Demon to request the help of someone like me, a simple crook?” Claude asks, tilting his head.

“Your skills,” Byleth said plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“My skills?”

Another nod. “Yes.”

“For such a small gang, you and your Deer have quite the reputation,” the other girl jumped in, tapping her finger on the dagger. “A ninety-six percent success rate in infiltration, thieving, and many more crimes of the sort, and making sure the crimes aren’t linked back to you. You haven’t been arrested since you were twenty - three years ago.”

“Earning you the name of the Master Tactician,” the boy added on. Claude rolled his eyes again. “There’s no one in Garreg Mach with a sharper eye for schemes and infiltration.”

“Well, there’s always two sides to that last one,” Claude said, grinning as the lock clicked. He caught the cuffs with one hand so they didn’t fall to the ground. “After all, being able to infiltrate a locked building also means being able to get out of a locked building - like this.”

In one swift motion, Claude threw the cuffs in the general direction of Byleth, not wanting to aim head-on and hit her - he just wanted to get out of there and get to the Deer. Not piss off the killer leader of a gang ten times the size of his. With his other hand, he drew out the dagger at his waist, before turning to head towards the window on his left-

-but then there was a hand grabbing his wrist and cold steel at his neck before he could barely take a few steps.

A hum as goosebump prickled up along Claude’s arm, the touch on his skin burning. “Your usual tricks aren’t going to work, von Reigan,” the unnamed boy said. Claude gulped - when did he move? He didn’t see it at all. “Drop the knife.”

“Alright, fine, I yield,” he said, holding up his hands and letting the dagger fall to the floor with a clatter. Then he yanked his hand out of the boy’s grasp, bringing it to his chest, glaring at him. Winced when the sword shifted its position on his neck, like it was pressing down for a moment before letting up. He rubbed his burning wrist with his free hand, trying to shake off the feeling of cold steel on his arms and stomach, of fingernails and tight grips leaving bloody half-moons and bruises where they dug into his skin. Claude’s stomach flips violently. “Put the sword away, and _let go of me.”_

“No can do - you’re a flight risk.”

The redhead walks over, bending down and picking up the dagger. She whistles. Claude feels a spike of irritation - that’s his dagger, hand-made by an Almyran weaponsmith that had cost him a pretty penny, his one keepsake, remembrance, of his home at the moment.

The girl seems to recognize this as she inspects it, turning it over in her hands. “Wow, I’ve never seen a blade like this before. Very fancy. The craftsmanship is impeccable.”

“Hey, set that down,” Claude snaps at her, glaring. The girl holds up her hands, the dagger in one hand.

“Now now, let’s all be civil here, shall we?” Byleth says, holding out her hand. “Leonie?” The redhead - Leonie - glares, but hands over the dagger. Byleth sets it on the table next to her, and Claude wants to relax, but there’s still a sword to his throat.

“I’m not the one being held at knifepoint,” Claude says, narrowing his eyes. Byleth is silent for a moment, staring at Claude with a gaze that makes it seem like she’s staring through him into his soul. Then she nods towards the man holding her.

“Ignatz, release him. I think von Reigan here knows he can’t win against all four of us.”

 _Four?_ Claude asks himself. _Wait, and I thought his name was Raphael._

The boy nods, takes a step back, and sheaths the sword in a fluid motion. Claude looks around the room, over his shoulder, for the fourth person. He finds himself looking at the most massive man he’s ever seen in his life, his father and Nader included, in the corner, a plate of food in his hands. Damn. And he thought he had put on some muscle since his boyhood - but this guy looked like he could pick him up and walk from one end of Almyra to the other without breaking a sweat.

Okay, now Claude knows there’s no way he can get out of this via schemes. Looks like polite talk is his only other option.

“Much better,” he says, adjusting his cravat and running a hand through his hair. Looks at Byleth. “Sorry about that, but people tend to get kind of skittish when kidnapped by the leader of the most feared gang in Garreg Mach, myself included.”

The man - he assumes that’s Raphael - in the corner pointed a drumstick at Byleth. “I told you that wouldn't have worked. We should've just bought him dinner and a drink!”

“Food isn’t the solution to everything, Raphael,” Leonie said.

“Food is always the best solution.”

“Hey,” Byleth said, raising a hand. The two went silent, and she looked at Claude again. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, no worries,” Claude replied, tugging on his glove, before he tilted his head. “But, now that I’m free of the binds, I have to ask - what do you mean when you say you have a job offer for me?”

“Exactly that,” she responds, curt. Claude raised a brow.

“Alright… Let me try again. What sort of job requires the famous Ashen Demon, leader of the Blade Breaker gang, to ask for help from a simple crook like me?”

“As I said earlier, your skills,” Byleth repeated. She pulled out the dagger on her waist, setting the blade of it in the palm of her hand. “Lady Rhea offered me a job. A dangerous job, but one that would make this gang rich, make me rich, if completed successfully. The problem is, while I control a large portion of Garreg Mach’s Abyss, and my battle prowess is unmatched, my tactical skills… leave something to be desired. And, normally, this wouldn’t be a problem - I have some people gifted in tactics. However, this requires a skill far beyond what they have.”

She looked up at Claude. “But from what I’ve heard, you have the skills. My gut says that if anyone in Garreg Mach has the schemes and skills to pull it off, it would be you and your team.”

Claude raised a brow at that. It wasn’t every day that Lady Rhea offered someone a job. Alarm bells went off in his head.

Still, he couldn’t help but ask, “How rich?

A small, deadly smile that made chills go down Claude’s spine appeared on her face. “Forty-five million dollars.”

He stilled. That… was a lot of money. More than enough money for him to get himself back to Almyra, for the Deer to get back to Ravka.

Claude had wanted to visit Fódlan at some point in his life, but that was a long time ago. Back when he was still a kid, when he still had the freedom to make his own choice and decisions, before he was burdened by this Crest and the memories of needles and knives slicing into his skin, of having to sleep with a dagger under his pillow. Now, all he wanted was to go home, eat baklava, weave flower crowns for his mother and spar with his father.

He wanted so badly to take this job, vague as it was. But Claude was a smart man, a sharp man - it was what had kept him alive for so long, kept him safe, kept his Crest hidden from others. He needed more information.

“What’s the job?”

Byleth shook her head. “I’m not telling you that. Not unless you choose to accept first. I’m not dumb enough to let this knowledge leak.”

Dangerous. It had to be. Claude frowned, trying to think of what to do next. He wished the Deer were there, so he could get a second opinion. It seemed that, if he accepted the job, he could get the money needed to go back home. But if he didn’t, he might not get another chance, but he wanted the Deer with him, to make an opinion.

Crossing his arms together, Claude tapped his foot on the floor. “What kind of job? I’ll do anything except for assassination or whoring myself out.”

“Infiltration - get in, get the target, and get out,” Byleth said.

“Think of it like breaking into a home, but the stakes are about a hundred thousand times higher,” Leonie added on.

“If we get caught?”

“Lifelong jail time or death,” Ignatz informed. Claude grimaced.

“What are we getting?”

“Someone important.”

“How?”

“Vital, for someone like your Deer. Like you.”

Claude stilled. “Someone… like me?”

Byleth’s eyes were a deep blue pool that Claude couldn’t see through. “Crested.”

He narrowed his eyes, heart slamming into his throat, against his chest. How did she know? He’s kept that a secret from everyone except the Deer.

“Looks like I’ve caught your attention,” Byleth said, voice smooth as silk. Claude hated how he couldn’t read the woman’s face. The prospect of this sounded dangerous.

But, more than that, Claude loved a mystery, and he could already tell this was a big one. So, he nodded.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll hear what you have to say, Byleth Eisner.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay, little ramble, but on the one hand, while I feel like Claude certainly matches Kaz in terms of scheming/tactical prowess, fake name, and general distrust of other people/keep people at arm's length, and Byleth matches Inej due to being a woman, sharp, shiny things, and being a sort of 'tool' to use, Byleth also fits Kaz because of the Ashen Demon/emotionless killer moniker (See: Ripping out the eyeball scene), the plan to get revenge for the deaths of their respective family members and can't handle emotion, while Claude fits with Inej due to heritage, sneaking skills, desire to return home and Inej being kidnapped for sex/Claude being kidnapped due to rare crest because TWSITD are bastards. anyways it could go either way so here's the other way
> 
> [I Have a Tumblr!](https://ccwritesstuff.tumblr.com/)


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